


Bad Skills

by Arithanas



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saxa helps Mira to unwind after a lover's quarrel, in her own special way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Skills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintilla10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/gifts).



Mira was seething. Spartacus was as hog-headed as a man could get, and they always ended up fighting.

Her hand slapped his cheek, and Mira knew she had to walk away or else blood would be spilled. She descended the steps in long strides. It was too hot inside to cool her blood; her plan was to search for open skies and a cool breeze; time and solitude would make her regain her senses. Gods laugh at the plans of men and women alike, when she was when she needed most a free passage was when the gods brought the obstacle in their path: Saxa was loitering, sprawled across the stairs and, as usual, she was reluctant to yield passage. Mira stepped over her anyway, annoyed and quarrelsome, that was why it was the worst moment to taunt her in a strange tongue.

"What did you say?" She spat at the blond woman who slouched across the stairs.

She just smiled.

"Just said it again!" Mira exploded.

Saxa stood up, all sinew and hard muscles. Her mouth articulated but the sound still made no sense. Mira flushed with rage, and her hand darted up, even without consent. Saxa slapped her hand away, and made some annoyed sounds. Aggravation shone in her eyes before a cruel smile touched her face and she threw herself at Mira.

Mira was more than ready to fight, but not with Saxa. She was in dire need of letting out the fire in her belly and in even greater need to gather her wits together. She bent away and tried to scurry out of Saxa's reach, but she was not fast enough. Saxa's fingers caught a bunch of dark hair and pulled in the rest with frightful ease.

Their scuffle had begun to attract an audience, but that didn't deter either of them. Mira twisted around as far as she could and punched Saxa's belly, which was enough to get her hair lose. Saxa tried to kick her shin, but Mira was ready and got her knee up; her plan to thrust Saxa backwards with a solid kick was thwarted by a playful hand which found its way between Mira's legs. Mira squealed and lost her balance; Saxa took advantage of the circumstance and flipped Mira onto the packed dirt of the patio.

The sun fell in Mira's eyes, blinding her for a second, but the rustling sound of sand alerted her, and she moved just enough to make Saxa's miss when she tried to pin Mira flat on her back. Mira took her opportunity and extended her leg and hooked Saxa's neck, trying to drag her down. To her surprise, Saxa made no effort to prevent it, and the reason was apparent the moment they both touched the dirt. Once that Saxa was down, Mira didn't have the leverage to hold her down, and she easily rolled away.

They circled each other, both trying to get a hold on any part of their opponent. A big smile flashed beneath dirty blond hair. It was obvious Saxa was having a great time, but Mira felt confounded by her emotions. Rather than a fight, this was a dance, a complicated pattern of bold thrusts and hurried retreats.

Then, Saxa said more words in that barbaric tongue of hers. That was enough to rekindle Mira's fire, which had been quenched by the complexity in which they had been doing; That such words where in company of a wide smile wore her patience thin. She flung herself at Saxa, who received her with arms wide open, ready to clasp both hands behind Mira's back and to make them fall.

Mira found it strange to feel Saxa's firm body over hers: all strength, none of the domineering of a man, a firm but also warm embrace, more similar to night pleasures that to this fight under the sun. Though that curious fact distracted her brain, it didn't stop her body from reacting. Her knee found her way to Saxa's side and forcefully tore them apart. She told herself she must master the reflex because, in a fight with knife, it could end up making more harm than good.

Saxa gave her no time to gather her strength. The little German was straddled over her hips, her face all too close to Mira's, while her hands kept Mira on her back.

" _Du bist die Frau meiner Träume_! " Saxa cried with savage glee, for anyone who wanted to hear it.

Then, all of the sudden, a pair of wet, and warm lips covered Mira's mouth, and their comrades cheered at the long, sweet kiss. Mira tried to buck off Saxa's weight, but that only increased the general approbation. Surrender was the only option, and she allowed the caress, Saxa’s touch, thought unexpected, was a delicious experience and Mira accepted it with more willingness than she believed possible. Saxa purred with pleasure when Mira's fingers touched her hair and responded to her touch; that was ideal, maybe a little more of coaxing...

With her back curved, just slightly, Mira caressed Saxa's breast, the weight in her palms was pleasing and the soft round form covered with rag-like clothes fitted her hand to perfection. That caused a sensation, among the rebels gathered to see the fight. Mira could hear the rough voices, the leering comments, but it was just a distant murmur, void of all meaning. Mira´s hand caressed, her tongue explored and her legs relaxed, ready to yield to passion. Her good disposition broke Saxa's concentration, and the moment presented itself: a bent knee, the thrust of a young thigh give enough room to a renewed attack and soon Mira was straddled Saxa's midriff, holding her down by the hair. She watched those gray eyes and that wide smile as her fingers signaled _missio_. And then, without asking herself why, Mira lowered her head and placed a demure kiss in Saxa’s lips, relishing the way she stirred beneath her body, before letting her opponent go.

 Amidst the clapping of the comrades, both regained their feet, and Saxa hooked her arm around Mira's neck in a clumsy embrace while she waved her arm to signal all that this was a friendly fight and that it was over. Mira was still dizzy when Saxa walked away with the rest of the Germans to share some wine in their usual corner.

"Are you alright?" Agron asked, using his sword to bring together Mira's dress over her body. Mira was not aware it was displaced in the heat of the fray.

"Gratitude," Mira said, taking the hint to rearrange her clothes, "What’s up with her?"

“She paid you a compliment," Agron told her as Nasir did his best to dust Mira's hair. "In her own special way. Inside, she’s a good woman.”

“Gratitude,” Mira said to Nasir, just to make him stop petting her hair. “I guess so, just one with appalling lack of skill to communicate her meaning.”

Agron watched over Mira's shoulder and she followed his eyes. Saxa was over Nemetes lap, a crud jug in her hand and a beaming smile on her face. The jug was lifted as a salutation before she carried it to her lips.

"But you must agree she has a hell of a bedside manner."

Yes, Mira could agree with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Muccamukk who went beyond the line of duty to help me make this story better.


End file.
